Turning Point

Chapter 7

Plan Orient was dead. It had been little more than a dream, to sweep into Syria, down through Palestine and possibly into Iraq, taking the oil fields at Baba Gugur in the process and then thinking to link up with Orenburg through a friendly leaning Iran. That was not going to happen now, but Admiral Raeder’s daring Operation Condor had been trying to resurrect some advantage from the capture of Gibraltar, and revitalize Rommel’s position in Libya.

They had tried to move into the Middle East, but the British Operation Scimitar had fought the Franco-German axis to a standstill in Syria and Lebanon. Hitler had authorized just enough force to stabilize the French, but it soon became clear that to achieve any real victory there, that force would have to be dramatically augmented. Halder insisted that any real offensive aimed at rolling back the British would require another three divisions at bare minimum, and five to seven to assure success.

“And suppose we do retake Damascus,” he argued. “Then what? Do you honestly propose we should continue on through that desert into Iraq? That is where the British will be, and they can fall back and consolidate there indefinitely, always on our flank if we go for Egypt. Do we then plan a major operation in Iraq? To do so we will have to first drive them out of the north, take Mosul, Erbil and Kirkuk, and then push on to capture Baghdad. After that we will have to pursue them all the way south to Basra.”

“What about the oil fields at Baba Gugur?” Raeder had argued.

“Suppose we were sitting on them today?” said Halder. “How do you propose we move any of that oil to Germany? They can move the oil by sea out of Basra—we cannot. It will have to be trucked over 600 miles to ports in northern Syria and then another 700 miles to Athens by sea, always at risk. The only other option is to move it over that antiquated rail system in Turkey. Barbarossa could link up with Orenburg in the Caucasus in three months, and then, with command of the Black Sea, we can move all the oil he controls easily to ports in Rumania and Bulgaria. That is the oil we should set our minds on obtaining, not this nonsensical adventure in the Middle East.”

“And what if those troops were turned south into Palestine instead?” Hitler’s eyes played over the map.

“It will need at least three divisions driving down the coast from Beirut, four or five to push through Damascus to Amman and Jerusalem. That is a bare minimum, and then we would also have to cover that wide open flank all the way to the Turkish frontier, because the British can move troops by sea to Iraq. That would require another three divisions, possibly more, and they would all have to rely on supply lines through Turkey, and anything else we manage to deliver by sea to northern Syria, which would then be trucked hundreds of miles inland. See the difficulties? What you must do here, my Führer, is make a major commitment to open this new front and sustain it indefinitely. And bear in mind that these troops will have to be mechanized—high caliber divisions. You must either commit the force necessary to smash the British, or face a long drawn out campaign that will become nothing more than a fruitless holding action, just like we have in North Africa. And bear in mind, all these troops will have to be taken from the southern wing in Barbarossa.”

At that Hitler had taken a long breath, quietly shaking his head. He was simply not willing to compromise the long standing plans for Barbarossa. He had listened to Raeder, given him the benefit of every doubt, but the operations had only handed him a stalemate, in both North Africa and Syria. He decided.

“The plans and troop allocations for Barbarossa will not be disturbed. I can see this adventure in the Middle East is entirely fruitless. Make arrangements to withdraw Steiner’s troops for Barbarossa. As for the Mountain Division, send it to Rommel. The 22nd Luftland Division and other airborne troops will be returned to the General Reserve.”

That spelled the end of Plan Orient, which had really been little more than a dream in Hitler’s mind all along, urged on by Raeder’s whispered promises. His fixation with the necessity of destroying the Soviet State was now uppermost in his mind, and Barbarossa was launched on schedule.

The withdrawal of German support led to a quick collapse of French resistance in Syria and Lebanon. They were forced to abandon Beirut, withdrawing north while they still had German support, and consolidating their entire force to hold Northern Syria from Homs to Aleppo. The British pushed up the Euphrates as far as Ar Raqqah, and then occupied Palmyra astride their vital pipeline route to the coast. They were able to advance as far as Tripoli on the coast, but then their eyes strayed to the Libyan Desert, largely at Churchill’s urging after Rommel nearly stormed Tobruk.

The British Operation Crusader had been the first major attempt to push Rommel back, but it had also ended in a stalemate. The British tank losses would take some time to replenish, and the new cruiser tanks they had fielded proved completely unreliable. A lull descended on the desert campaign, with neither side able to take offensive operations with any real prospect of success. In this vacuum, Japan’s dramatic entry into the war commanded the attention of Western planners, but then, Germany’s surprising Operation Condor was launched, using some of the very same troops that had been committed to the ill fated Syrian operation.

Raeder had managed to convince Hitler that a Reichspfening spent here could make a Reichsmark in due course with the capture of the Canary Islands. His arguments as to how this would cut the British supply lines to Egypt and enhance the U-Boat campaign finally fell on good ground, and Hitler approved the operation in January of 1942.

The Germans had made a daring attack, leaping from bases and airfields on the African coast to attack the island of Fuerteventura. The arrival of Force H and Home fleet mustered the bulk of the Royal Navy to make a bold attempt to sever the sea communications in the channel between the islands and mainland Africa. It resulted in the largest naval engagement of the war, with the Franco-German fleet going head to head with the Royal Navy in a desperate and costly battle. Good ships and good men were lost on both sides, including the loss of Admiral Volsky, who gave his last breath at the wheel as he struggled to steer HMS Invincible to safe waters. His sacrifice had already saved Tovey, and ended up saving that ship, but the cost was his own life, a hard blow when the news finally came to Fedorov. In the end, it was a matter of logistics that eventually compelled the British fleet to withdraw north to Madeira and the Azores for refueling.

The Germans managed to take Lanzarote, Fuerteventura and the main island at Gran Canaria. The British still stubbornly held on to Tenerife, La Palma, La Gomera and El Hierro, with their main strength on Tenerife around the port of Santa Cruz. Now both sides began to plan how to continue that struggle, and logistics would again figure prominently in the game.

“Now that they’ve put troops on these islands,” said Tovey in a meeting at Admiralty headquarters, “they’ll have to keep them supplied, and that goes double for what is perhaps their most dangerous asset, the Luftwaffe. I’m told the army left the airfields in bad shape when we pulled out, and we sunk an old WWI destroyer in the entrance to the Grand Harbor, but the Germans will cure that in a matter of weeks. Then it comes down to who can keep the troops and planes fighting and flying. Our intelligence indicates that those German raiders have now returned. One got through to Casablanca. The other is still operating near the Canaries, and we hope to run it down. In the meantime, the navy must do everything possible to contest the littoral zones around the islands. I’ll be sending Duke of York back to work soon, and King George V as soon as possible. But we can’t afford to lose another battleship here. Those heavy units will be there to discourage moves by enemy capital ships, but the rest will be up to our cruisers and destroyers, backed up by aircraft carriers.”

“How will the Germans get fuel for their land based planes?”

“By sea. They might fly some in, but in the main, it will have to be brought by ship. We think they may be using their new aircraft carrier as an aviation fuel ferry to the islands, a rather clever idea. The German Navy has never had to think and act this way, realizing the importance of logistics in projecting naval power at sea. For them it was all about the U-Boats, where they fight that battle on a grand strategic scale. But now, and for the first time since their Norway operation, they must use their navy to sustain troops overseas. It was their inability to do this that eventually allowed us to face them down in Syria. Now they must succeed here, or they will lose these islands, and we will spare no effort in defeating them.”

“At the same time,” said Admiral Fraser, “we shall have to make every effort to hold on to Tenerife and La Palma. Those islands have the last of the good ports and airfields. They are birds in the hand, and if we lose them, then it will take the planning and execution of a major amphibious operation to ever get them back.”

“Right,” said Tovey. “They will also be instrumental as forward bases for plans being laid for Operation Gymnast. Soon we’ll have much more support from the Yanks, and that will make a good deal of difference. French North Africa will become a major new front in this war and, in that campaign, we also have the issue of Gibraltar to settle with the Spanish.”

“I don’t see how we can do all this now,” said Pound. “Mister Churchill has been shuffling off divisions to Burma, and the Australians are pulling their best troops out of the Middle East.”

“We certainly can’t contemplate such an offensive for some time,” said Tovey. “But the planning is still going forward, and the Navy figures prominently in every aspect. We can’t take the Rock from the sea. The only way to do it is from the landward side. Therefore, Spain will have to be dealt with first, and that is a major offensive that will most likely come through Portugal.”

“I’ve had a look at those plans to date,” said Fraser. “That operation is to be timed with another landing at Casablanca. It all depends on the Americans. Without them, all we could do is hold our own in Egypt.”

“Well,” said Pound, “the homeland will have to get serious about building up battle ready divisions soon, but that is a matter for the army. For our part, we’ll get all the transport shipping we need from the Yanks, and more destroyers. But we’ll have to get our own fleet back as a solid fighting force as soon as possible.”

“I’ve checked the yards for progress after Fuerteventura,” said Tovey. HMS Invincible has been given the highest priority, and she’ll be ready in March. Then we’ll have Anson in May, Howe in June, but those are the last capital ships we can count on for the foreseeable future. The Lion class is still in the brewing vats, and will be for some time. The Knight Class cruisers may help fill in for the loss of Renown and Repulse. Let’s get more of those ships to sea as quickly as we can.”

“The Round Table is forming,” said Pound. “Sir Gawain and Percival are already fitting out, and after them come Pelleas and Baudwin. I note that Sir Lancelot has already tangled with those German raiders, but with mixed results.”

“Teething troubles,” said Tovey. “That was a real baptism by fire for those ships and crews. Yet I’m given to understand that the Admiralty diverted Captain Sanford at a critical moment, and sent him off to look for a German tanker instead of closing and engaging with Kaiser Wilhelm. That won’t do if we want to sink German ships.”

“We’ve sunk the Ermland,” said Pound. “Thanks to Trident. I was responsible for that order, and frankly, given the state of our battleships, we will have to be just a little more cautious as to how and when we can engage the enemy now. Kaiser Wilhelm had 15-inch guns. We’ve enough ships laid up as it stands, so I looked for easier prey.”

Tovey nodded, thinking. He had been criticized in some Admiralty circles for being too quick to get the navy into a fight. The losses sustained of late had been very heavy, but he still had Churchill’s backing, and intended to run Home Fleet as he pleased. “Getting Ermland was a good feather in our cap,” he said at last. “Getting the Goeben will do even better. Sanford is still in the chase, in spite of that hit he took amidships, and I intend to support him as best I can.”

“Strange that these raiders did little or nothing on that last sortie,” said Pound. “They go all the way into the South Atlantic to shell an airfield, then simply turn about and return home. We had convoys out there on the way to the Pacific, and the Germans never bothered any of them. It was as if they were trying to avoid engagement, particularly on this homeward leg.”

“Yes… That was odd,” said Tovey, his mind running to the strange photographs Turing had shown him, and the mystery they still represented. He would not mention any of that here. Admiral Pound would remain ‘in the dark’ concerning the real identity of Kirov, the Russians, Kinlan’s Brigade and all the rest. Photographs of ships at sea that had yet to be commissioned, or even laid down, would not be the sort of thing Pound would deal with easily. Nor would Tovey draw water from the bottom of that well for some time, though he made a mental note to see what Turing was up to as soon as possible.

“Sanford believes they had fuel problems. In that case, your orders to go after the Ermland may have been just the ticket, Admiral Pound. Good show. Logistics at sea, gentlemen. Jerry is late to the game, and let us all vow to keep him on the sidelines as long as we can. If they do get well established in the Canary Islands, and well supplied, then we’ve a whole new bowl of stew to get through. German Stukas on those fields will force all convoys to Freetown and the Cape to divert by at least 350 miles, and lord help us if they get U-boat pens set up there. This is why we need to rethink what we’re doing at sea with another vital arm of our force projection—the carriers.”

“We’ve had to send three off to the Pacific with Somerville,” said Pound, “ but that still leaves us three with Home Fleet, and three more at Alexandria.”

“The more the merrier,” said Tovey, but it’s not the ships I’m thinking of now, but the planes they carry. “Look what the Japanese accomplished at Pearl Harbor. Why, they’ve practically re-written the textbook on how to equip and utilize their carriers at sea. In the Pacific, every operation they undertake is centered on their carriers. Their naval air arm is simply superb, and on that score, the F.A.A. could not hope to match them. Now, we have adequate fighters. The Martlet and Seafires are coming along nicely, and giving us good capability for fleet defense. The Albacore is there as a torpedo bomber, but gentlemen, we need a better dive bomber. The Fulmar simply won’t do, and without a decent aircraft in that role, we’re like a boxer with one arm tied behind his back.”

“The Buccaneer is coming along nicely,” said Pound. “It will be a dual purpose aircraft, taking either torpedoes or bombs, just like the new model the Americans are working on, the Avenger.”

“We might want to have a look at that plane if we can talk them out of a few. Putting better strike aircraft on our carriers gives us some real offensive punch. The days of fluttering in with Swordfish are long over. Jerry is building aircraft carriers, and they’ve got the Stuka. We’ve all seen what they can do with that combination. God forbid they ever develop a good torpedo plane.” There was a moment of silence at that, and the Admirals took Tovey’s words to heart.

“I’ll put in a word to Admiral King concerning those Avengers,” said Pound. “Frankly, our projection of power at sea has always been built around the battleship, but you may be on to something here, Admiral Tovey. HMS Glorious has done well with those old Stringbags, and now she has Martlets and the Albacore.”

“It wasn’t the planes,” said Tovey, “it was the man that sent them out to do the job. We need more like this Captain Wells.”

“Yes,” said Pound, “he certainly put Bretagne and Provence under the sea, but we paid a high price for them—France…”

That statement fell like a hot coal in cold water, and there was a silence about the conference table, until Tovey lifted his chin and responded. “I might add that he sunk those ships on orders from the Admiralty, and against the wishes of his senior Commanding Officer on the scene, Admiral Somerville.”

“I’ll not dispute that,” said Pound, “but we must admit that was one situation we might have handled differently. Had it not been for Churchill’s bullying, things might have gone otherwise.”

“It isn’t what we might have done that matters now,” said Tovey, “but what we might yet do. I daresay Hitler is probably wishing he hadn’t crossed the Soviet border as he did. And there will be time enough for all of us to sit with our regrets in a cold dark closet before this war is over.”

“But we’ll muddle through,” said Fraser.

“Aye,” said Tovey. “That we will.”

Chapter 8

It was one of the most difficult decisions Churchill would make in the entire war, and he stared at the letter he had just received from Wavell with an almost unbelieving expression on his face. The prospect being put to him now by his Theater Commander seemed preposterous, and yet, as he read on, the cold military logic in Wavell’s arguments could not be denied. Now he sat with his newly appointed Chief of the Imperial General Staff, General Alan Brooke, relieved to have him at hand now instead of Field Marshal John Dill, a man Churchill never fully appreciated, and one he quietly maneuvered out of the chair he now gave Brooke.

Given the central role he would play in planning the war, Churchill had found it necessary to take Brooke aside and confide the one great ‘truth’ to him that had shaken the history to its very foundation. Brooke was absolutely amazed, as any man might be upon hearing such a story, but when Churchill handed him a photograph taken in Siwa of Kinlan’s battalion of heavy Challenger IIs, the General had removed his eye glasses, and leaned in very close.

The shock of knowing he was looking at men and machines from another time, Britain’s far flung future, was almost too much to take. Churchill confided he felt the same way, until the reality of what he was looking at finally banished all the arguments his mind put forth as to his own insanity. With those men, those machines, the Allies could win the war.

The Heavy Brigade was now something Churchill treasured beyond the worth of all the Crown Jewels and all the gold in the nation’s treasury. He had in that single brigade, the means of decisive victory at any time and place of his choosing. Beyond that, Kinlan knew the outcome of the war, even as Fedorov had. He was a road map to the victory Churchill was laboring to bring about, yet was isolated there in the Middle East, far from the War Cabinet, and all the decisions that would have to be made there.

At one point Churchill thought he would summon the man to London, and keep him at his side to navigate the stormy waters ahead, but the young Russian Captain Fedorov had convinced him of the danger inherent in the knowledge of future days.

“Knowing what once happened will not necessarily bend the course of this war to follow the same path,” he had told Churchill. “In fact, simply knowing the outcome of any battle could become a fatal poison in the brew. It removes the uncertainty from your thinking, and could introduce a cavalier attitude to the decision making process that might be fatal. For it was only in the dark of the night, with enemies on every side, beset with fear and that awful uncertainty, that you could truly weigh the risks, and the consequences of the choices you had to make. I could hand you a book that would lay out every battle, every misstep and lost opportunity, every advantage before you, but that would take the passion of life out of you, and without that, you would never be the same man again. Understand?”

“I suppose I do,” Churchill had said. “It would be like knowing the outcome of every flirtatious proposal you might make to a lady, and whether you might win through to capture her heart, among other things. Would a man risk his pride and honor to woo a woman he knew he could have at his whim? I think not. There would be nothing at stake, and he could therefore neither feel the elation of his conquest, nor the pain of his loss should he fail. Yes, Mister Fedorov, I do understand what you are saying.”

So it was that Fedorov remained very careful and cautious with the information he had on the outcome of the war, and he had also privately urged Kinlan to be equally reticent. “These men may know they can win this war, but not how, not by chapter and verse. They must write this history themselves now, with the sweat of their brow, and the blood of the men they send to do battle. Besides—from everything I have seen, this entire history seems to be a house of cards. Change one thing and the whole of it could come tumbling down. We have no way of knowing which events could cause such a catastrophe. We can speculate and guess, but never know to a certainty. Tell them everything, and the weight of all that knowledge could be too difficult for them to bear.”

The weight had seemed that way to Churchill, and he eventually decided he had to bring someone ‘inside’ on the truth of the matter, someone with dignity, authority, and the broad respect of his peers—someone like Sir Alan Brooke. He needed a foil to his own mind on the war, and Brooke would become that for him, though he would once write of Churchill: “A complete amateur of strategy, he swamps himself in detail he should never look at, and as a result fails to ever see a strategic problem in its true perspective.”

The two men would have a very tempestuous relationship in the years ahead, but it was one where something would arise from their interaction to define a new truth. Like yin and yang, they would both oppose and define one another at the same time, and something sublime would result.

“Well General,” said Churchill, “We have a rather delicate situation here. Wavell wants Montgomery back for his big operation in North Africa, but the man has only barely warmed the chair in the Pacific. ”

A veteran of the First War, Brooke specialized in the hammering work of the heavy guns in that nightmare, developing a tactic that came to be known as “the creeping barrage.” His thunder was heard at the Somme, and at Vimy Ridge, and after that war he moved on to the Imperial Defense College. There he met many of the men who were now running the war, including General Montgomery, who had 3rd Division in Brooke’s II Corps in France. Both men saw eye to eye. In fact, it had been Brooke who quietly put forward Montgomery’s name when the decision was made to relieve Percival.

“I recommended him wholeheartedly,” said Brooke, “but it will seem a bit of a snub to Percival to have Monty say ‘there, I’ve gone and fixed your little mess, and now I’m off to my desert again.’ The problem is, Monty is just enough of an old goat to say something along those lines. He can be somewhat blunt at times.”

“That is the least of it,” said Churchill, handing Brooke Wavell’s latest communication. “After all this shuffle and bother, Wavell wants to pull out of Singapore! He’s of a mind that, in spite of every effort made to hold it, the place is now indefensible with the Japanese landing on Sumatra. Outrageous!”

Brooke studied the letter for some time, with Churchill pacing about the close confines of the War Cabinet Map Room beneath the Treasury building near Whitehall. Here was a perfect case of the danger in knowing too much. Churchill had learned the truth from Fedorov as to the actual force disparity between the Japanese troops and those under Percival. He had then dispatched his close advisor Brendon Bracken to try and convince Percival to stand fast, but he remained a weak stone in the wall there. Montgomery had been the solution, but now, in spite of that intervention, events were already conspiring to undermine that whole effort. It seemed Singapore was a rock destined to sink, and the question now was what would it take down with it when it fell?

“I know on the face of things that your reaction would seem fully justified,” Brooke said at last. “Quite frankly, I must tell you I personally never believed there was much hope of saving Singapore. Montgomery did a bang up job, stopped the Japanese right in their tracks, but now that island is no more than a solid rock in the stream.”

“Exactly,” said Churchill. “The Rock of the East. Do you realize the political and moral capital we’ve put in the treasury as a result of this one small victory? Here we finally find a General who can win in a good fight, and now Wavell loses his nerve and wants to simply give it all back to the enemy! And for what? Java? We couldn’t hold Gibraltar, and losing it we virtually lost the Mediterranean, at least in the public’s eye, even if Admiral Cunningham still holds sway in the east. To lose Singapore will mean we’ve lost the Pacific, and with the war there only months old.”

“It may mean that to the man on the street,” said Brooke, “but to those of us lurking in the War Cabinet, we must take a wider and longer view.” Brooke quietly laid Wavell’s letter on the table. “Yes, I certainly never expected to see things fall apart as they have,” he said. “I was of a mind to send the British 18th Division to Rangoon instead of Singapore, but Monty made good use of it, and was bull headed enough to stop the Japanese. Yet now they have gone right around him with these landings in Sumatra. They’ve gone after the airfields he was counting on for air cover over the island. Without them, we’ll be forced back to Batavia, and with the Japanese already on Borneo, Singapore will be sitting there like a pearl in a Japanese clam. It will be completely isolated. Mister Prime Minister, the fact of the matter is this…. For the moment we hold that island on the strength of our ground troops there, and the man who led that defense. Yet to hold it further, we will need control of the air and sea around it.”

“You will recall my proposal to secure a lodgment in northern Sumatra?” Churchill wagged a finger.

“Yes, I do recall it, but there was simply no suitable port. Banda Aceh was the only prospect that could be supported from Colombo. Pedang on the west coast was just too small.”

“Yet we might have made a good fight there on Sumatra.”

“With what sir? The Australians have just recalled their entire first Corps from North Africa, and they certainly would not hear anything about sending them to Sumatra. Would you have us divert the 70th Division from Burma to Sumatra? That would be madness. It was all we could do to get the 18th Division to Singapore, but I think all we have done is throw good money after bad. Percival lost his battle before we gave Montgomery a chance to win it for him. He lost it on the Malayan Peninsula. The fate of Singapore always rested on the assumption that we could hold Malaya for at least six months. His Operation Matador decided everything when it squandered all his strength in piecemeal defensive battles followed by chaotic retreat. By the time those troops got to Singapore, they were beaten three times and ready for another good licking. It was a miracle that Monty pulled things together, but remember, he did that with fresh British troops, including the New Zealand Brigade Wavell sent him.”

“But do you seriously propose we should now simply abandon the city? It would give the Japanese the greatest harbor in the Pacific!”

Brooke smiled. “They don’t need it. All they wanted there was a moral victory.”

“And we denied them that, while savoring the very same dish ourselves. Singapore was about the moral fiber of this Empire, of the fighting British soldier, and of the word we gave to our friends and allies that we would hold it safe and secure.”

“All well and good,” said Brooke, “but to the Japanese, taking Singapore was a defensive move to shore up their right flank as they push south. They won’t be using it to carry out further offensives, as the only prize west of Singapore is Burma, and they already have troops there. That’s also a defensive move, and one we should strongly oppose.”

“Agreed,” said Churchill. “If they push us out, they’ll be knocking on the door to India.”

“Possibly,” said Brooke. “I rather think they will have other designs in the near run. They’ll take Sumatra. The Dutch can’t hold out for long there, and we simply can’t get sufficient reinforcements there to stop them, but we might do better on Java. That’s where they will turn next. If they take Java, and the islands leading east, then things point in a very dangerous direction—Australia. That’s why the Aussies are pulling their troops out of the Middle East. They’ll need them at home, and on New Guinea. We’ve also received disturbing intelligence that the Japanese are looking over the Bismarck Sea. That would be a prelude to a move into the Solomons, and once they have control of those islands, Australia would be completely cut off. They already have the New Hebrides. When the Yanks ever do muster up to get into the war, they’ll have to operate from Fiji and Samoa. Now then… we might wail over the loss of Singapore if we take Wavell’s advice, but consider the loss of Australia. It isn’t Java we may be trading now for Singapore, it’s Australia.”

That remark so darkened the air in the room that Churchill remained silent, sitting with the grim prospects of their situation for some time. “I see it as plainly as you do,” he said sullenly. “Wavell’s arguments certainly sting. We can’t control the Malacca Strait because the Japanese are sitting on all our airfields in Malaya. The front door is closed, and the only other way in is through the back door in the Sunda Strait between Sumatra and Java.”

“And to use that,” said Brooke, “we’ll have to hold Batavia. You can be sure the Japanese know that, and Java will be next on their list. So even if we hold Singapore, those troops will just sit there, and with dwindling supplies, and no further air cover. After we lose that, the convoys won’t get through in any case. We can’t cover them from Batavia, which is 550 miles from Singapore.”

“Then where do we stand? When do we dig in our heels and tell the other fellow no more. I had hoped we could do that with Singapore, and now you tell me it was all for nothing.”

“Not entirely,” said Brooke. “We’ve taught them a lesson on Singapore. We’ve shown them they aren’t invincible—they can be stopped. Yet now we must learn the hard lesson they are teaching us—that control of the sea is the essential element in all of these maneuverings. That’s what we’ve built this Empire with—the Royal Navy. The Army can’t go anywhere without them, and that is the simple fact of the matter. It comes down to sea power, and control of the air space over those seas. The Japanese have gone and knocked the Yanks off their bar stool at Pearl Harbor, and it may be a good long while before they get up off the floor. In the meantime, the Japanese Navy is the undisputed master of the Pacific, and if we’re going to stop them anywhere, we’ll have to pose a credible threat to that sea power.”

Churchill shook his head, regretfully. “I wanted to send a pair of heavy warships to Singapore, but this Russian Captain let slip they would go down in a Japanese air attack. A hard lesson indeed, General Brooke, but we’re learning it. Our battleships have taken the hard knocks of late in this dirty business off the Canary Islands. So now it’s down to cruisers and aircraft carriers. We’ll be forced to fight the way we should have been fighting all along—by projecting air power at sea.”

“Correct,” said Brooke. “Admiral Tovey knows it. I had a discussion with him when he was in London a while back. He wants to send Somerville to the Pacific, and with three aircraft carriers, and he wants a new dive bomber.”

“That’s the way the Japanese have pulled off their parlor tricks,” said Churchill.

“Indeed,” said Brooke. “I noted Wavell leaned on that rather heavily. He wants to try and salvage something from our stand on Singapore—the Army we sent there to do the job. At the moment, the Dutch are sitting with about 25,000 troops on Java, mostly native units. The Aussies have a brigade there, and there’s a battalion of Yanks in the mix as well. Wavell wants to pull out of Singapore while we still can, and get those troops to Java. To do so we’ll have to be quick. In another week to ten days the Dutch will be pushed right off Sumatra. The Japanese have already taken Airfield P1 near Palembang. They haven’t found P2 yet, but they will in good time. The 18th Division might just slip away from Singapore if we act quickly, but just barely. Otherwise, I’m afraid those troops are as good as lost. In another two weeks we’ll never be able to get them out, nor will we be able to keep them supplied.”

“And the civilians?” said Churchill with a look of anguish. “That is the other side of the moral issue here. There’s a million people on that island. Do we just abandon them? Do we just leave them to the mercy of the Japanese? You know what they did at Hong Kong.”

“Only too well,” said Brooke. “Yet it comes down to losing Singapore now, or losing it later. It’s only a question of time. Mister Prime Minister, we put up the good fight, but our enemy is smarter than all that. Mark my words—they’ll take Java before spring, and then hop their way east towards Australia, whether we still hold Singapore or not.”

Chapter 9

“My god man,” said Churchill, “you make it seem as though we haven’t a shred of hope in any of this.”

“Forgive me if I sound jaded.” Brooke stood there with complete poise, in spite of the gloomy mood that hung over the scene. “I’m a realist. I won’t stir honey into your tea here, because the day I stop telling you what I truly believe, is the day I will be of no further use to you. As to Java, yes, I have my doubts about trying to reinforce it now. Assuming the 18th Division does get to Java safely, I would make arrangements to pull it off in due course. We could use it in Burma. If nothing else, such a maneuver might buy us time. We just might slow them down enough to let the Yanks get back on their feet. You know damn well that we can’t beat the Japanese in the Pacific alone. We’re just hanging on by our fingernails in the west. We need the Americans, and we need Australia. That’s the long view of it all; the hard view. A million souls sit there in Singapore to pay the price for the tens of millions that will fall into the darkness if we lose this war.”

The ticking of a clock on the wall seemed unbearably loud as Brooke waited. Then, slowly, Churchill drew back a chair and sat down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar, lighting it with quiet, methodical movements, his eyes fixed on the flame as it began to scorch and burn the tip.

“We can do both at once,” he said. “Make quiet arrangements for the withdrawal of the 18th Division and the Australian and New Zealand Brigades to Java. Mister Curtin will likely want those troops back on Australian soil, and I agree that the 18th Division would be better posted in Burma. Montgomery won’t like it, but we don’t have to tell him anything until the orders have been sent. Get discrete word to the Governor that he should see to the arrangement of daily convoys to move as many civilians as possible off the island. The Indian divisions and the Malaya Brigade, along with all the Fortress troops, will stand the line. We will hold Singapore as long as we possibly can, but make it seem that contingencies compel us to reinforce the Dutch, particularly with the threat that an early enemy occupation of the Malay Barrier Islands would pose to Australia.”

“You realize that by dividing our forces we risk both ends of this equation,” said Brooke.

“True, but I once told the Australian Prime Minister that as long as we hold Singapore, the Japanese would not dare to attack his homeland, and that should they do so, we would respond by sending a battle fleet. It was only on the assurance that Singapore would be held that the Australian government agreed to join us in North Africa and the Middle East. Those troops were a godsend. Without them we could not have held the line there. We owe them. So now we must fight, as best we can, to retain some footing from which we can restore what we have lost when stronger forces become available. In the short run, I have finally scraped together that battlefleet I promised. Somerville’s job will be to project as much air cover over the area as possible, enough to cover these withdrawals and deter a Japanese invasion of Java. If need be I’ll send a full squadron of Spitfires over there. This is the least we can do, and all we can do for the moment. As for Java… How long can we hold there? Will we be having this same conversation in another two weeks?”

“Everything depends on Somerville. If he can cover Batavia, deter or prevent a Japanese landing on Java, then we might have the time to get our shirts tucked in and make a stand there as we did on Singapore. In this light, I’m of a mind we should leave Montgomery in the Pacific until the question of Java is settled. I told you the Japanese never needed Singapore, except to deny it to us. What they do need, however, is Java. If we do try and hold them off, expect a fight there, and for all the other islands leading east to Timor and Darwin. As for Somerville’s prospects of forestalling an invasion, I very much doubt that. He would have to take his carriers through the Sunda Strait and into the Java Sea to oppose any landing on the north coast. That would be dangerous. He’d find himself boxed in, and if the Japanese move planes to Sumatra, he’d be under their land based air power.”

“And if we lose Java?” Churchill’s question betrayed his uncertainty. He took a long drag on his cigar, and now his wandering eye sought out his brandy flask.

“Then we will fight them from Darwin,” Brooke said flatly.

It was what happened the following day that finally put the real fear into Churchill’s soul. The Japanese bombed Port Darwin. Their attack was meant to prepare the way for planned invasions into the Celebes at Kendari and Makassar, and an attack aimed at Amboina and eventually Timor. It was thought that any naval forces worth the name that might be mustered in Port Darwin could be eliminated as easily as the American Navy had been humbled at Pearl Harbor.

When Churchill got the news, Brooke’s words about trading Singapore for Australia were finally riveted home. Orders went out from the Chiefs of Staff immediately:

It was all bravado, except for the reality inscribed in that last line, and like all plans and devices in the whirlwind of war, these orders and dispositions would soon be put to a severe test. A powerful force was now rising in the southwest Pacific, and nothing Churchill or Brooke would devise was going to stop it.

It was immediately clear to Percival that he was now to be offered up as the sacrificial lamb on Singapore, as the command he had so badly managed prior to Montgomery’s arrival was now to be stripped of its best fighting units. His situation would have been seen as hopeless, if not for the fact that the Japanese had also made substantial withdrawals to pursue objectives in Sumatra and prepare for operations against Java and the barrier islands.

To this end, the entire 5th Division was pulled off Singapore Island, leaving only the 18th Division holding the western segments taken during their ill-fated assault. The new commander, Nishimura, was not content to see his forces divided by the marshy Kranji river, and saw no point in leaving the 18th Division in place there. He therefore gave orders that it should withdraw on the night of February 20th and move to reinforce the positions being held by his own Imperial Guards Division. In his mind, the possession of the Causeway Bridge, which his troops and engineers had fought for so gallantly, was the one essential avenue to supply any Japanese presence on the island itself.

In the short run, with his divisions badly depleted, and no ammunition for the artillery remaining beyond a few rounds for each gun, a lull fell over the battle for Singapore, with both sides digging in and doing little more than probing at the enemy lines for purposes of reconnaissance. While Montgomery and the better units still remained on the island, he worked with Percival to outline the best defensive dispositions possible given the limited forces that would remain.

The 28th Indian Brigade still held positions on the northern coast of the island, blocking the way to the old naval base. 41st Indian relieved the Australians and took up positions astride the Mandai Road. The Malay Brigade took up positions on the defensive works formerly occupied by the British 18th Division near Tengah Airfield, and also stood up one of its battalions as a local reserve at Bukit Pandang on the Mandai Road. Elements of Dalforce, their ranks now swelled by over two thousand Chinese Volunteers, were forged into a makeshift screening force that now patrolled the northwest sector that had been the scene of so much fighting earlier. The S.S.V.F. Brigade took up similar duties along the exposed northeast and east coast of the island, and Fortress Troops remained in and around the city to act as a constabulary force and impose order on an increasingly frightened population.

No matter how discrete and quiet the withdrawal was, rumors were soon flying that the British were pulling out, and the frightened disorder in the harbor swelled to a near panic, until Montgomery gave strict orders to quell the disturbances until his troops could board available shipping for the transit to Java. It was a hard and desperate thing for the people to see the very same men who had come to their rescue weeks ago now leaving them, but the stalwart effort made by the men to stop the Japanese attack had at least bought the troops the goodwill of most everyone who came into contact with them.

“Tojo has a mind to get his hands on Java,” a Captain in the 53rd Brigade told them. “Now we can’t have that if we want to keep the supply convoys running in here with food and such. You just stand fast while we get over there and settle the matter.”

It was a very narrow escape the night of the 23rd of February. Just a few days earlier on Feb 21st, a Japanese task force centered on the light carrier Ryujo had covered operations to land elements of the 229th Infantry Brigade of 38th Division, which had embarked from Hong Kong. Their target had been the port and airfields near Palembang on Sumatra, where fighting was already underway with Dutch garrisons sparring with Japanese paratroopers that had landed to seize Airfield P1. Once those troops were ashore, Ryujo had moved into the Malacca Strait to cover further operations against Medan in northern Sumatra. This left a brief window where the British forces could make their dangerous move by sea to Java.

To cover the operation, British squadrons remaining on Sumatra at Airfield P2 flew defensive missions, and the carriers Illustrious and Indomitable, already on the scene in the Indian Ocean, were ordered to slip in towards the Sunda Strait. Somerville was still delayed aboard HMS Formidable and would not get there for some days. Those land based planes, augmented by the F.A.A. squadrons off the carriers, were just enough to provide air cover.

It was also fortunate that Japanese surface units were out of position to intervene or interdict the sea transit. The Ryujo Group was still far to the northwest with Rear Admiral Jisaburō Ozawa’s Western Covering Fleet, composed of five cruisers and an equal number of destroyers. Other Japanese surface units in the region were gathering at Balikpapan, where shipping was already assembling for the planned invasion of Java. Commander Ohashi in submarine I-56 spotted the convoy, designated SJ.3 for “Singapore-Java 3.” He was able to put a torpedo into the ammo ship Derrymore, but could do little more that night.

The following morning Montgomery’s relief force, and now the heart of his new Java Command, would arrive safely in the harbor of Batavia and begin debarking. They had left much of their heavy equipment behind, leaving as many guns in place as possible to support the Singapore defenders. Yet they found that several of their own artillery regiments had finally reached Batavia to join them, diverted there in those halcyon days just before the main battle at Singapore.

Advised on the planned British troop arrivals, the Dutch forces in and around Batavia had begun moving east by rail towards Semarang, Cirebon, and Surabaya. Montgomery would then plan to send additional troops by rail east to bolster the Dutch defense as needed.

As it happened in the history Fedorov knew, Java fell in a matter of days once the rag-tag Allied surface fleet under the Dutch Admiral Doorman was defeated in the Battle of the Java Sea. This time, that battle might be very different. The Japanese might find a much stronger Allied naval presence ready to oppose the Java landings, including two fleet carriers.

On the night of February 24th, Illustrious and Indomitable moved back out to sea, intending to wait for Somerville and the remainder of the Eastern Fleet. Though the battleship Royal Sovereign had come round the Cape to Colombo, the Admiral elected to assign it to the vital convoys carrying the Australian 7th Division. The British had hoped to divert them to Rangoon in an attempt to save that city, and by extension, Burma, but Australian Prime Minister Curtin would not hear of it, demanding the unit return home.

Churchill relented, but made one last attempt to salvage this veteran unit for the impending operations now gathering like a bad storm in the Java Sea.

“Your government might see the defense of Java, a prize dearly coveted by the Japanese, and one for which we have put our most important base in the Pacific at risk, as being instrumental to the defense of the Australian mainland. For if Java and the remaining barrier islands should fall, it would be no great leap of either logic or imagination to see the Japanese putting troops ashore at Port Darwin within 30 days time.

“To forestall this dreadful possibility, I have ordered the stalwart defenders of Singapore to make a hazardous journey to strengthen the Dutch position on Java, and make another gallant stand on that wall, imposing themselves between the enemy and your homeland. Might the leading elements of the 7th Division now join their brothers on Java and fight side by side with Brigadier Bennett and his heroes of Singapore? Might they now join the New Zealand Brigade, which we have released at great sacrifice from our dwindling forces in the Middle East in this grave hour? If, however, your government still insists on repatriating these troops, then, at the very least, I strongly urge you to consider debarking them at Darwin, where their presence will act as a strong deterrent to invasion there, and also place them close to Port Moresby on New Guinea, where you will unquestionably need them should we fail to stop the Japanese here and now.”

They were certainly going to be needed, because the Japanese offensive continued to sweep south like an unstoppable wave, and even Montgomery was going to soon wish he was back in the relative calm of the Libyan desert.